What a BOO-tee-ful Sunday

 It is the Sunday before Halloween,
and our ground is still snow covered from yesterday's bizarre October snowfall.
Snow's falling in sheets off roofs and trees as the temperature is expected to go well into the 40s today.
I have high hopes that all the white stuff will be gone by the time Trick Or Treating begins after school tomorrow.

Otherwise, who will eat all the candy?

Meanwhile . . . I'm borrowing some old pictures, and a ratty old poem, from past Halloweens at

That Old House, just to give you a taste of the season.

"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the spider to the fly;

"'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you may spy.

The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,

And I have many curious things to show when you are there."

The Spider and the Fly
Written by Mary Howitt (1799 to 1888)

And . . . That Old House's version of the famous poem:

Yes, come and see our curious things, my precious readers all.
There's a table in our parlor, O so charming, O so small.
You can rest your weary skeletons upon our chairs so black.
Do not fret about the ghosties sending shivers down your back.

Do not worry, all my pretties; you will not hear ghostly calls.
You will not hear howls or rattling chains in That Old House's walls.
For the ghosties here are kind ones, and they wish you only well.
Now sit down and have a drink, while we prepare a ghostly spell . . . .

Written by the Ghosts of That Old House in October 2009.

They are still waiting for you . . . .  

The Parlor in 2009.

And in 2010.

I am not going to show you the 2011 Parlor, because you might do this:

Laugh!

I love ceramic pumpkins and Jack O'Lanterns.

Also in 2009, I made witch hat cookies -- Hershey kisses glued with icing

onto those thin chocolate wafers that are so good with coffee.

Rudy, our pet ghost, looks longingly at the cookies.

Sadly, his mouth is just a line of ink, and cannot open.

Sorry, Rudy.

More for us.

Watch out!  On a nearby table, some mice await their chances to snatch cookies!

Finally, a picture from 2011.

 Each year at Halloween, a few songs get stuck in my head.

Werewolves of London.

Monster Mash.

Ghostbusters.

and this one.

Listen if you dare! And have a lovely, spooky-ish, silly Halloween! -- Cass

BOO!

 

That Old House Of Horrors

My Friday post was supposed to be about our
parlor fireplace, all decorated for Halloween.

But do you know what?

It gets dark awfully early these days, and there isn't a whole lot of wattage in the parlor table lamps;

that photo shoot will have to wait.

Instead, we're once again at the old oak table in the sunroom, only this time . . . no turkey plates.

It's a spooky supper for two on a windy, rainy night

near All Hallow's Eve.

Bring on the dark.

Old houses are the best places to be at Halloween.

Don't be scared . . . you are among friends.

**********************************

Mr. Jack O'Lantern is keeping an eye on the proceedings.

Do you wonder what your Ghostess -- I mean, Hostess -- has planned for the evening?

 Wineglasses at the ready.

Spider webs and bats beneath the plates.

Black crows settle onto the centerpiece.  Let's hope they are friendly. 

Eeek!  Spider!  Hope he's not the first course!

Miss Havisham has supplied the yellowed old linen napkins, leftovers from her wedding day.

The old  bat  dear also did the flowers for tonight's special dinner a deux.
I think they came from her bridal bouquet.  Nice and crispy!

Please, take a seat.  The pumpkins, crows, spider, and ... who knows? ... are all ready to serve you.

With Hollandaise.  Cue cackling laughter here.

BOO!

Are you ready for Halloween?

Question:  Do you buy your candy ahead of time and hide it?

I buy ours at the very last possible minute!

Well, time to climb up on my latest vehicle, and go for a spin.

-- Cass

And . . . the charming illustrations are all courtesy of

The Graphics Fairy.  Visit her here; she's amazing.

The Ghosts of Halloween

It's Halloween, and it just got dark.

I have lit all the lights in the first floor rooms. The house, inside and out, looks lit and welcoming and all ready to welcome witches and goblins and Indiana Joneses for Trick or Treat.

Tally so far is ... 2: the neighbor kids from the house behind us, whose grandparents used to live in this house. No one else has ventured either up from the street in front or down from the cul-de-sac and driveway behind to beg for candy.

This makes me sad. In our former house, in a close-built neighborhood, with quiet level streets and no moving vehicles except those of other parents, the streets were alive between 4 and 9:30 with kids. It looked like a Peanuts special when you looked from our porch, with little costumed beggars swarming over grass and piles of crunchy leaves and the remains of spent annuals.

I loved it. I loved Halloween. I loved bringing cupcakes and juice to the school, watching the parade in the parking lot, hosting a Halloween party for my Girl Scouts.

I loved making costumes for my two daughters, usually in a mad last minute rush. I loved decorating the house with spider webs and flying bats and a scarecrow on the lawn swing, pumpkins and hay and Indian corn ... even a big goofy-looking plastic skull with giant googly eyes and a motion sensor that triggered "I SEE you" in a lugubrious tone when people approached the front door.

Now I've got a couple of tasteful pumpkins, a few copper colored mums, and a bittersweet wreath -- pretty, but restrained. Now I have two bowls of candy -- one at each door -- and no little takers. Now I've got a great old house, perfect for Halloween parties, and my girls are elsewhere -- one of them 3000 miles away.

I miss a real Halloween! I wish someone would knock at the door, some little extortionist, threatening me with dastardly deeds if I don't pony up the Twix and Kit-Kats.

Oh well. Howard will be home soon, and I did buy two bags of his favorite candy -- 3 Musketeers Bars.

I will make him beg.

Happy Halloween!